The Doors. (And Not Jim Morrison)

I have had a mental thing about doors in This Old House.  And property beyond this old farmhouse...
Since we are three-less inhabitants in This Old House (read: Empty Nest), I have decided it would be prudent to have a door between our kitchen and the dining room.  History (i.e., the doorway) has shown that previously, there was a door separating these two rooms.  It makes sense.  In the last century, it might have been more of a social statement, keeping the kitchen hidden from guests.  It makes sense today to keep that part of the house, now uninhabited for at least half the day, unheated and unairconditioned. 

I bought an old and very charming door over a year ago.  It still had its original glass, but needed a clean sanding and restaining.  I am not sure exactly what transpired when, but that old door ended up hung as a front door to one of our outbuildings, affectionately named "The Brickhouse".   And it was painted barn red.  And, the Kansas wind slammed the door and shattered the gorgeous original glass. 

And that is how it's set for...a year.  I was reluctant to unhinge the door and that Spouse o' Mine over this stupid, stupid, stupid door.  But, I wanted it in my dining room, NOT the Breickhouse.

Today I visited our Habitat for Humanity Store with measuring tape in hand, and I found a replacement exterior (read: old farm outbuilding) door which matched the style of everything else on this old, old property.  I finagled a good price for it, and lo and behold, the bread landed jelly-up and I even had a strapping young(er) man see my plight of carrying this 2-ton door out by myself, and offered his muscly physique to my aid.  (I could have done it myself...but even the lady at the cash register was appalled that I was going to attempt this.) 

So I came home again, home again, jiggety-jig. 

Tomorrow:  Unhinge the Brickhouse door.  Replace Brickhouse door.   

This weekend:  Remove barn red paint on gorgeous door, and proceed to staining.  Call glass company with measurements for bevelled glass.  Head to the local home place and peruse the wood trim selections.

Oh!  The door in my mind's eye is GORGEOUS.  Let me tell you.

And...

Part DEUX:  In the barn loft (yes, right there by the original house shutters...) is a pair of French doors.  For the doorway between the dining room and the old living room.

Ah...I live in a perpetual, real-time episode of This Old House.  It's never-ending.  Always morphing. There is always SOMETHING.

November 8th: what am I thankful for today?  I am thankful, SO thankful, that I have talked to three very special people in my maternal life in the course of the past 24 hours.